


Where Do Your Loyalties Lie?

by 1478963255



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Clothed Sex, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, Rough Sex, Sex, Spit Kink, Submission, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 06:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1478963255/pseuds/1478963255
Summary: Hubert begins to question Byleth's fealty. He decides to figure out where exactly her loyalties lie.F/M relationship. Rough sex, choking, dom/sub undertones. Anonymous request (and self-indulgent).





	Where Do Your Loyalties Lie?

A scarlet blood moon hung high over Castle Hresvelg. All was quiet; the mercenaries and troops had all retired for the night, exhausted after dominating the Leicester Alliance territory. Their hands and armour were stained with blood and mountains of stained, cracked and dented helmets were tossed in the courtyard to be cleaned in the morning. The castle was bone-chillingly cold, and the wind howled through the stone halls, haunting those who tried to sleep through their bloody nightmares.

Byleth sat in her office, graciously gifted to her by Edelgard. It was a generous size with several bookcases lining the walls, a desk that sat towards the back of the room with the back of the chair to the window and a larger table in the centre of the room. It was in this office that Byleth, Edelgard, Hubert and various other Empire tacticians would meet and plan their assaults, pushing and pulling small pawns that represented units on the map.

The hearth was lit, and it cast a warmth throughout the room that was absent from the rest of the castle. It was likely the warmest room in the entire fortress. Byleth’s quill scratched across her paper, recording what she could remember of today’s battle; how they stormed Gloucester territory and claimed the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands. She quickly lost count of the number of screams she heard.

Their attack had been near perfect with fewer than a hundred lives lost for the Empire; a stealth team of mages lead by Hubert flanked the Alliance’s unguarded right side where they managed to storm a spire and launch a torrent of fire upon them from above after their own cavalry units had cleverly retreated. Edelgard herself was impressed by the devious manoeuvre, pleased with the outcome of their battle.

Scratching at the papyrus, Byleth hardly noticed the gentle knock on her door until it came a second time, much firmer.

“Come in,” she called.

A white-gloved hand peered around the edge of the door as it creaked open and a pale hallowed face poked into the room. His raven hair curled lowly over his brow and obscured his glinting golden eagle eyes, but he swept them aside with the back of his hand, meeting his former professor’s empty blue gaze. A small smile crawled across his lips as he entered the room and clicked the door shut softly behind himself. Although she missed his knocking, Byleth did not miss the lock snapping into place.

“Hubert,” she greeted him.

The dark mage nodded and walked slowly into the room. He always held himself with such high decorum; head high, chin tilted upwards so that with his height he always looked down upon those to which he spoke. His lips were thin and always pulled tight, even on the rare occasion which he smiled. He held one arm folded behind his back and one hung at his side as he strode to the centre of the room, fingers skimming over the surface of the map of Fódlan.

“Good evening, professor,” he said. His voice was soft, eerily so, almost like a phantom; chilling, cold, yet calm.

“I am no longer your professor, Hubert. I have told you to call me by name,” Byleth said, picking her quill back up and dipping it into the inkwell. Hubert chuckled darkly.

“I apologise. Old habits are hard to break.”

“It’s alright.”

She continued to write, noting what part of their attacks went well and whilst no aspect in particular failed, it could have been improved to reduce casualties on their side. Hubert eyed up the map, strewn strategically with small wooden pawns. He picked up the one that represented the Empire; a carefully carved eagle painted back and shining with a varnish. He rolled it in his gloved palm, turning it over in his fingers.

“Our attack today was highly successful.”

“Yes, it was,” Byleth replied, not looking up from her paper, still writing. Hubert regarded with her with his one eye and set the pawn back into place, shifting it by mere millimetres to realign it perfectly. He came to stand before the hearth and gazed into the fire, watching the crackling embers sear through the dry wood and dance into the air. The room smelled pleasantly of smoke and parchment, a smell he had come to love.

“We suffered few casualties.”

“It was all due to your attack. Without it, things may have been dire,” Byleth replied, giving Hubert a quick smile before returning to her writing.

“Lady Edelgard is most pleased.”

“Yes.”

“Lord Arundel has already taken total command over the Leicester Alliance. I am sure he will be kind to the people there… pending their fealties, of course.”

Byleth couldn’t help but frown. She stared hard at her paper and pursed her lips tightly, lifting her head. “I should hope that no more people have to die. Particularly innocent villagers who have no place in this war.”

“All people have a place in war, whether they realise it or not,” Hubert replied, staring into the fire. The flames danced in his eyes and cast shadows over his hollowed face. “Any sort of disloyalty must be quickly eliminated, whether they are a soldier or not, man or woman. I cannot allow any threat to befall Lady Edelgard.”

“Hubert. Farmers and traders are not a threat to our mission.”

“I cannot take that chance,” he said firmly, turning to look at Byleth. His face was stern and despite the fire dancing against his face, his expression was ice-cold. “Any disloyalty or threat to Her Majesty must be completely eradicated.”

Byleth watched him with hard eyes; his expression didn’t falter, and he remained cold and grim. He finally lifted his head and walked past the hearth to her desk and behind it, facing her window. She sat, tense for a moment, before returning to her writing. She knew that there was little to no point in arguing with Hubert about the slaughter of innocent people; she would simply have to plan their next attacks to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

“I have news.”

“I was wondering what you came to see me for,” she said quietly.

“Lord Dimitri is alive.”

The quill stopped. Byleth’s eyes went wide; _how?_ How could he still be alive? She was sure he had been executed by Cornelia for his part in the Tragedy of Duscur that had his own father and uncle killed. Initially, Byleth thought it would have been impossible for him to have planned such a horrific attack for he was only a child at the time. But seeing the man he had become, an animal with a carnal thirst for blood and revenge, she began to think that maybe it was possible for the young princeling, wrought with grief from having his stepsister taken away, to have planned the assassination of his own family. She had not seen Dimitri in over five long years and wondered what kind of animal he had become.

“I see.”

Hubert paused behind her. “You do not seem surprised.”

“I am and yet, I am not.”

Hubert said nothing.

Without prompting, Byleth continued. “A part of me knew that Dimitri had not been executed… he has always been far too strong to be held down by chains and merely killed. No, he would have much rather died in battle and knowing him, that is exactly how he wishes to die. Simultaneously… Dimitri has long been dead; he is a shell of the student I once knew.”

Hubert inhaled deeply and stared up at the crimson blood moon. “You still speak fondly of him.”

“He is my former student.”

“So were the others you have killed.”

Byleth winced. _It was true._ She had slaughtered her previous students, even when they had begged her for mercy; Leonie, Annette, Lorenz were to name but a few. She could picture their weeping faces, blood falling through their eyes as she swung her sword through them without flinching, driven only by adrenaline and her devotion to Edelgard. Was she misguided? Was it wrong of her to kill her former students whilst under the instruction of another?

“I would speak fondly of any student of mine,” Byleth said steadily, picking up her quill and starting to write again. She tried to ignore Hubert standing behind her who continued to gaze up at the moon. Stillness graced the office with only the crackle of the fire and the scratching of parchment to be heard.

“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it? The moon.”

“A blood moon,” Byleth noted, slowing her quill.

“How wondrous; the moon anticipates the blood of battle tomorrow. It speaks to me.” Hubert inhaled deeply and let his eyes slowly fall shut. “I cannot wait to see Dimitri’s head fall from his shoulders.”

Byleth stiffened. She was devoted to Edelgard and her cause, undoubtedly, and yet the callousness of Hubert’s words irked her. Her quill scratched deeply in the parchment and it tore. She fingered the ripped edges of her paper, smearing her fingertips with ink and she stared hard at it. A part of her knew that one day it would come to this: that Dimitri would resurface and that he would have to be killed for Edelgard to succeed in her mission; not because she wanted him dead, but because _he_ wanted _her_ dead. He was a threat.

A lump formed in her throat and Byleth swallowed dryly over it. “We cannot allow ourselves to be foolish, Hubert. We are unaware of his whereabouts or his strength.”

Hubert sighed and opened his eyes. He rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck as it touched his shoulders and he came to stand at his professor’s side, skimming her notes quickly and then following the paleness of her arm up to her chest and finally her face. She did not turn to look at him, but he could still see the emptiness in her eyes, hardened only by a frown.

“Professor.”

“Hubert.”

“I am beginning to question your loyalty.”

Byleth laughed incredulously and still did not look up. She re-dipped her quill into the inkwell and wiped off the excess carefully, drawing it back to her parchment. She continued to write as she spoke. “What makes you doubt me?”

Hubert reached out and like a viper seized Byleth’s writing wrist in an iron grip. She gasped and her head shot up to look at Hubert. He stared down at her with his unflinching piercing yellow gaze, like a predator assessing its prey. “You seemed to have no reaction to me telling you that Dimitri is alive.”

“I told you I believed him to be too strong to be constrained by simple chains.”

“I believe you are lying.”

Byleth pursed her lips tightly and glared hard at Hubert from her seat at her desk. “You do.”

“I believe you have known all along Lord Dimitri is alive and that you intend on reuniting with him.”

Byleth’s eyes shot wide and her mouth dropped open, aghast. “Hubert, no, you cannot be serious.”

His grip on his old professor’s wrist was bone-crushingly tight and Byleth winced though she did not try to release his grip just yet. Hubert yanked on her wrist and pulled her to her feet, and he leaned in close her face, snarling. His breath washed over her and she shuddered; even his breath was ice-cold. “I believe that you have every intention of betraying Lady Edelgard just as she is about to triumph over all of Fódlan.”

Swallowing hard, Byleth shook her head. She tried to steel her resolve and stay strong, but Hubert was downright petrifying; she knew that with a snap of his fingers she could be obliterated if he truly wanted to destroy her. His face was hard, and the cut of his cheekbones was so sharp it cast shadows down the rest of his jaw. His eyebrows were pulled down so that it furrowed and creased so deeply it would leave marks.

“I have no intention of doing such a thing. _Ever._” Byleth managed out, her crushed hand starting to prickle with pins and needles, going numb. She grit her teeth.

“Truly,” Hubert hummed, more to himself than to her. He relaxed his grip on her wrist just a fraction and slowly raised his hand. Byleth could see the gloved hand moving in the corner of her eye and for a moment, she thought he might hit her, so she braced for the sharp impact on her cheek. Instead, his hand came to her face gently, holding onto her cheek and cupping under her jaw. Byleth shivered involuntarily and a part of her wished that he had hit her; it would’ve been a far more expectant move on the tactician’s part than the disturbingly gently caress against her face.

“I wonder,” he mused to himself. “What secrets hide behind these lips.” Hubert’s thumb came to trace over Byleth’s lower lip, the pad of his glove skimming over the plumpness of it, grazing her upper lip too. He pulled her lower lip down slightly until Byleth wrenched her face out of his icy touch.

“I have no secrets, Hubert. You are wasting your time.”

“Indeed.” Hubert watched her face and dropped both his hands to his sides. Byleth was free to move but instead, she stayed frozen to her spot, staring up at Hubert, trying to figure out what the raven-haired man before her was thinking. He truly doubted her loyalty to their cause and that put her in a dangerous position. A worm in Edelgard’s ear, he would quickly have her thrown from the castle by morning.

“Such an intelligent woman you are, _dearest professor,_” Hubert said, venom dripping from his words. His hand came back up and carded through her jade green hair, drawing another shudder from Byleth. She stared ahead and at his height, this resulted in Byleth starving at his shirt lapels and collar, focusing on the intricate and detailed sewing instead of the hand combing through her hair.

A sharp gasp tumbled from her throat when he fisted a handful of her hair. “Surely you know what will happen if Edelgard finds out about your _treachery.Hubert!_ Stop!” she cried out.

“Stop?” He repeated. Hubert laughed darkly and with his free hand, cupped his professor’s chin, thumb running back over her lip. “Not until you spill every single one of your secrets to me, dear professor.”

Byleth exclaimed again and her eyes shut tightly when Hubert pulled on her hair and tipped her head to the side. She was desperately trying to untangle herself from his predator-like grip, but he was unyielding. His hand skimmed from her chin and lips over her exposed neck, grazing her pale skin.

“I cannot allow Lady Edelgard’s plan to fail… and if you are what I must break to ensure her victory… then I will shatter you like glass.”

Turning sharply, Hubert yanked Byleth with him and threw her against her bookcase. Tomes toppled to the floor but he swooped in on her, pinning her against the shelves with a leg between her own and a hand grasping firmly around her throat. His fingers squeezed the sides of her slim throat, sinking into her skin, though the palm of the front was relaxed.

This was not how to choke someone to kill.

_And Hubert damn well knew that._

Gasping, Byleth tried to pry the fingers free from around her throat but Hubert’s grip tightened. Opting for another tactic, she relented and dropped her hands to her sides and thankfully, his grip relaxed though he was still squeezing uncomfortably tight. His free hand skimmed down her side, ghosting over the black cotton of her undershirt, stripped free of her usual armour and he smirked.

“To think that our dearest professor… the one who _came back from the dead_… can be so _fragile,_” he jeered, hand grasping firmly onto her hip. Byleth grit her teeth and spluttered for breath, one leg kicking out impulsively as she tried to free herself but the kick and movement of her leg cause Hubert’s thigh to grind up between her legs. She froze, whatever little breath she had now caught in her throat.

“H-Hubert…” Byleth staggered out. Hubert relaxed his grip and Byleth gasped deeply, head swimming, dizzy from the lack of blood circulating to her brain. If Hubert wanted to strangle her, he knew how to do so; countless times had she seen him snap an enemy’s neck or choke the last gasps of breath from their bodies. Yet, he hadn’t killed her. His chokehold was purposefully cutting off the blood flow to her brain, sending her into a dizzying spell where she slumped forward against Hubert’s firm chest. Weakly, she pushed herself from him and tried to escape from his cage.

“Cowardice is a good look for you, _professor,_” he snickered. With a dark chuckle, he allowed Byleth to try and make her way towards the door. Her head was still spinning, and she gripped tightly onto the bookshelf, more books tumbling to the floor. Byleth staggered, knees buckling beneath her as she tried to reach forward, collapsing against the door with a hand on the handle. She could not find the strength in her to twist it and run.

Shuddering violently, Hubert’s intense shadow loomed over her. She felt his presence behind her and with a hand on her hip, he pinned her to the door with his body. His chest was strong against her back and she panted, trying to recover from her dizziness, a vignette edge clouding her vision. She began to turn the door handle but once again, his hand darted out and he slammed it to the door.

“Running will do you no favours.” Hubert’s mouth came close to Byleth ear and with an icy puff, he whispered to her. “You never allowed your other students the chance to run, _did you?_”

He chuckled darkly and stood back up, letting go of her wrist and planting a strong gloved hand against the back of Byleth’s head. He drove it into the wood painfully and she had to turn her head to the side to avoid crushing her nose. 

“Hubert, stop,” Byleth gasped, trying to fix her face with a stern stare. She twisted her head as much as the hand allowed to speak. “Did Edelgard put you up to this? I have nothing to tell you, you’re wasting your time.”

“Lady Edelgard did not instruct me on this, dear professor.” His mouth came over her ear and he bit down hard at the shell of it, eliciting a pained cry from Byleth. “This is all of my own accord.”

Byleth shuddered; _gods,_ if Edelgard had not asked Hubert to do this then he was far more cruel and calculating than she thought. The cold-blooded curl of his lips caused her blood to freeze and her face paled when his hand skimmed over her hips, dancing like a ghost over her waistline and her exposed midriff. She kept her lips sealed and grit her teeth, jaw tensing when his gloved hand ran over her stomach.

“Hmm… your expression right now,” Hubert murmured. “That desperate look on your face… I’ve never seen it before.”

Byleth wrenched her eyes shut and stifled a gasp when Hubert’s hand ran further up her chest, skimming her bust. She tried to throw herself into his back and buck her body so that she might free herself from the solid pin of her head to the door, but he stood strong, instead pressing his entire frame firmly against her so that she was encased by his larger body. Despite his adept ability with magic, Hubert was not one to shy away from swordplay and so his body was strong and well-muscled with a strength that betrayed his frame.

“What secrets do you hide, professor?” Hubert whispered, tongue tracing the shell of her ear. Byleth tensed immediately as his hand snaked up her torso and came around her throat once more, his arm nestled snugly between her breasts. He gave her neck a firm squeeze and sustained the pressure, drawing her ear into his mouth and sucking and biting on the lobe. She shivered, though not from the sensation of his tongue against her ear, but rather the coolness of his breath.

“S-Stop,” she breathed shakily. Hubert’s tongue curled along the inside of her ear and his hand was firm around her throat. With a gentle rock of his hips, Byleth’s eyes shot wide open; she could feel him, every inch of his cock pressing against her buttocks, sliding between her cheeks and against the fabric of her shorts. For a second, a bolt of heat shot through her stomach but the next, she was shuddering with revulsion – unsure if it was from Hubert’s rocking or her own arousal.

The tactician’s fingers squeezed tighter around her throat and he continued to rock against her, guiding his cock to slide snugly between her cheeks. Byleth bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood to stop the pathetic whimpers threatening to spill past her lips. Tightening further, a breathy gasp wheezed from her throat when Hubert choked her harder.

Vision blurring, Byleth practically slumped against the door. She was vaguely aware of the hand letting go of the back of her head, but she couldn’t find the breath nor energy to raise her head, forehead pressing against the wood. Hubert’s hand held firm around her throat and her eyes fluttered, rolling into the back of her head until finally, he released her and chuckled darkly into her ear.

“I did not think someone like you would be so into breath-play, professor,” he laughed. In all honesty, she didn’t know either. Head spinning and lungs starved for breath, Byleth gasped weakly, legs trembling and shaking, only supported by a firm thigh between her legs, keeping her propped up.

“H-Hubert…” she rasped out. Her voice was hoarse and rough, and she could already feel the violet blossoms of fingerprint bruises blooming against her skin.

“How utterly _filthy,_” he murmured, pulling at her shirt with his free hand. He tugged the high turtleneck collar down a fraction so that his lips could latch onto the back of her neck. She wanted to shudder and recoil but all she could do was sink her fingernails into the wood of the door and scratch, his sharp teeth like an adder’s fangs sinking harshly into her skin. A pathetic whimper slipped past Byleth’s lips as she struggled to open her eyes, still reeling and deprived of blood and oxygen.

Hubert said nothing and just bit at the back of her throat, latching firmly into the crook between her neck and shoulders. Byleth’s knees crumbled and she buckled. Catching her with a firm arm around her middle and a leg between hers, Hubert held his former professor against the door and attacked her exposed throat.

Byleth, for the first time in her life, felt totally and utterly powerless. Ordinarily, she would have been able to figure a way out of any dire situation on the battlefield, but this was not a battlefield. This was another thing entirely; cornered, trapped like an animal by Hubert, a man who she had, _apparently,_ come to vastly underestimate. His strength was overwhelming, his silver tongue and wicked way with words coaxing her into a sense of submission her brain tried desperately to fight against but to which her body surrendered.

Heat coiled in her core and she whimpered again when he bit down hard and drew blood. She could feel his lips curl into a smirk when she whimpered and from the corner of her eye, she could see his hand nearing her face again. Fear flashed in her eyes, terrified he would begin to choke her again when she hadn’t yet recovered from her previous ordeal.

“The noises you are making, professor… it is as if you _want_ to be defiled… is that it?” Hubert murmured, raising a gloved hand to Byleth’s face. He cupped her chin and then slid his finger into her mouth. She almost moved to suck on it, impulsively, but Hubert laughed, startling her from her hazy stupor. “No, no… I understand you must be eager… you must take my glove off first.”

With the tips of her teeth, Byleth delicately took the glove and Hubert let his fingers slip out of the fabric. Opening her mouth, the glove floated to the floor, dejected and forgotten before two fingers plunged into Byleth’s mouth, pressing down against her tongue firmly. She almost choked with the pressure in her mouth, spluttering around Hubert’s long spindly digits.

She could feel herself slipping; slipping slowly and completely into Hubert’s touch, falling deeper into a submission she had never thought possible. It felt shamelessly good to allow Huber to do as he pleased with her body, despite the strong-willed protests of her brain. Her head was heavy, spinning and her vision was still blurry, and she couldn’t see straight. Perhaps it was best to allow him to take the lead for the time being.

Sucking obediently around his fingers, Byleth hummed and coiled her tongue around the two digits. She coated them as well as she could, enjoying the heavy cool breaths that puffed across the back of her neck and she imagined the expression that possibly could have been playing across Hubert’s usually concentrated face.

With a sharp tug, he pulled his fingers from her mouth and saliva dribbled messily down her chin. Byleth leaned her head against the door again and watched with downcast eyes as his hand danced down her body, canting her hips upwards as he expertly slid his fingers beneath the waistline of her shorts and skimmed over the small tuft of turquoise pubic hair.

“What a _filthy_ young woman you are,” Hubert whispered against the back of her throat and Byleth shivered bodily when she felt his lips move against her skin with every word. His long lithe fingers slipped over her pussy and with a long swipe with his fingers, she shuddered, moaning sharply when his fingers brushed over her clit.

“Ah!”

“For someone so… empty, you are far more sensitive than I thought,” he laughed cruelly. The blunt but soft pads of his fingers circled over her clit slowly, tortuously for a few long seconds before Byleth writhed impatiently, grinding her hips down to meet his touch. “Your face is so earnest.”

“Don’t… such words are-”

“Exciting for you?” Hubert interrupted. He slid his fingers between her heat, spreading her open beneath the layers of her clothes and rubbed teasingly at her entrance. “Your body too, it seems, is far more honest than your mouth.”

“F-Fuck…” Byleth panted.

Hubert laughed again. That chuckle, that vibration of his vocal cords revelling in her submission made her body ignite and her head tilted back, leaning against his chest and shoulder. She wanted to open her eyes and take in his expression but found her eyelids still too heavy to lift – would his face have been as scarlet as hers? Would he have been staring at her with a bewildered and aroused expression? Or would a cruel and predatory smirk curl across his beautifully pale lips as he watched her come undone against his fingers? She would never know. Instead, Byleth drew her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard again.

“What a foul mouth you have, professor. Such obscenities.” His fingers quickened, sliding against her opening before finally, one slid into her. Byleth’s mouth tumbled open and her nails scraped down the door; she could feel splinters and varnish beneath her nails but didn’t care for Hubert’s long finger was now drawing in and out of her pleasurably.

“_Gods_… H-Hubert…” Byleth moaned. Hubert watched her with his single golden eye; here she was, his former professor, the only object of his affections and also his greatest threat and fear, amalgamated into one being, coming undone at his touch. Her usually vacant expression was contorted with pleasure, painted scarlet and her body was trembling uncontrollably in his grasp. The power he felt was insurmountable, unlike any he had ever felt before. To have his former professor reduced to such a quivering mess so quickly made his stomach knot and cock throb and as much as he yearned to have his way with her, he also wanted to see just how far he could break her.

“Pleading so soon? How _pathetic_,” he spat. Byleth keened her hips back against Hubert, grinding back up against him in desperation. “I would have thought an intelligent and powerful woman such as yourself would have had a much stronger resolve than this. Imagine if you had fallen into enemy hands… all of our plans… _gone._”

At his final word, Hubert plunged in his second slicked finger. Byleth’s eyes shot wide at the sudden intrusion, staring straight back up into Hubert’s hungry eye, pupil blown wide and almost eclipsing his golden iris. His gaze was sharp, and it bore down through her sending a combination of fear and pure blazing arousal through her body. Unable to stand his strong gaze, Byleth’s head thunked forward against the door again as Hubert’s fingers graciously began to slide in and out, only by mere millimetres.

“Imagine if Claude or Dimitri had you… every single one of our plans… _exposed_… all because of your lecherous body, crumbling beneath the hands of any man. I wonder, if they had touched you like this, would you also have reacted so earnestly?”

Panting feverishly, Byleth shook her head in defiance. _No._ No other man had touched her this way and she didn’t even know that her body could react so depravedly. Claude and Dimitri would never lower themselves to this type of torture regardless and would have opted for a far more traditional method of interrogation – instead, Hubert’s fingers curled inside of her and rubbed against the front walls of her cunt, massaging the smooth velvety pad.

“_O-Oh_… oh, Hubert…” Byleth struggled. Behind her she could feel and hear him shuffling and the clinking of metal. _Oh. Oh, so this is where it was leading._ Whilst her brain screamed at her to leave, that she still had the opportunity to escape Hubert’s rapacious hands, her body didn’t want to; in fact, her hips continued to cant against his fingers, greedy, with only one thing driving her forward; _release._

“Is there something you need, professor?” he murmured, the shuffling of cloth reaching her ears. Byleth could feel him against her now, with less clothes than before, his black trousers undone, and buttons tugged apart so that the strong curve of his cock slid between her ass cheeks.

“Please…”

“Please what? Use that indecent mouth of yours and tell me exactly what you need,” Hubert growled.

“I-I…” _Could she do it? Could she honestly lower herself to such a level and allow her inner-most and most desperate thoughts, and such filthy, depraved words to tumble from her sovereign lips?_ “Hubert… I can’t…”

Hubert hummed cruelly. “Then I suppose you do not want it badly enough.” His fingers started to draw out of her until her hand flew to his wrist and she held him there in a vice-like grip. Her body had reacted without her having time to even process his words, acting on impulse, need and pure desire.

“I want… m-more.”

“More? More _what?_” he taunted.

Byleth whined pathetically. “Please! M-More! I want y-you!”

“But I’m right here, professor,” he whispered, kissing over the bite-mark he sank into her skin earlier. He lapped at the half-dried blood, relishing in the delicious coppery taste rolling in his taste buds. Byleth scratched at the door again and could see the deep burgundy varnish carved away by her desperate nails, leaving light-coloured streaks in the wood.

“Y-Your… y-your _cock,_ Hubert…” she whispered.

Shoving his fingers back inside promptly, Hubert leaned over her shoulder, wrapping his hand back over her throat. He didn’t squeeze down quite yet and just let his fingers smooth over the sensitively bruised skin, admiring the violet blooms. “Say it again,” he commanded.

Byleth’s breath hitched in her throat and she closed her eyes, hoping her humiliation would wash away with the darkness. “Your cock, Hubert, please… I can’t take it much longer… I-I want you…” she begged.

Hubert withdrew his fingers from her throat and Byleth almost whined, wishing that he _had_ instead squeezed so tightly that all oxygen left her, and the blood stopped flowing to her brain. “Then make yourself useful, and strip.”

Immediately, Byleth’s hands flew to her shorts, grateful for the opportunity to do something more fruitful than just scrabble aimlessly at the door. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts and she let them slide down the length of her muscled thighs until they pooled at her ankles. Thankfully, her boots were already off and set beside the fireplace and so she easily kicked off her shorts and stood before Hubert in her lacy tights and underwear. He had withdrawn his fingers from her cunt and took a small step back to admire his professor’s body. With a swift tug, Byleth pulled her black shirt up and over her head and cast it aside.

Glittering like constellations, Byleth’s back was marked with silver stripes and scars and Hubert’s fingers traced over them, gently at first, admiring them, starting at her shoulder-blades until he sank his nails in and marked her skin with harsh scarlet ribbons. Byleth’s back arched and her chest pressed against the wood of the door. Her fingers went to the elasticated waist of her tights but Hubert’s hand on her ass cheeks stopped her.

“No… keep them on,” he murmured into her ear. “There is something utterly depraved about keeping them on, is there not?” His hand was soft on her cheek until it drew back and cracked back down against her with a hard _‘smack’_. Byleth cried out and felt her skin prickle with pain under his cruel hand. He caressed over it and soothed into her ear.

“I am correct, am I not? Keeping these on… as I _fuck_ you… that is what you want,” he said. The curse falling from his lips made Byleth shudder, the filthy word vibrating in her eardrums and sending a pleasurable shiver through her body. She nodded honestly and panted. Both his hands came to smooth over her cheeks and suddenly, he pulled.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the room and echoed in Byleth’s eardrums. She whipped her head around to see Hubert’s bare ungloved hands ripping her tights apart, exposing her white smallclothes and she gasped. The act was totally thrilling, exposing her before him and she felt terribly vulnerable and horribly aroused. His tongue ran over his lower lip hungrily.

“Unable to hold back any longer, you choose to _fuck_ whilst still wearing clothes… that makes you no better than a _whore, professor_,” Hubert jeered. His words sent her stomach aflutter and it coiled over on itself hotly, the paradoxical phrase turning over in her head. His hands greedily sank into the soft flesh of her ass cheeks and he spread her as much as he could, almost tearing through her underclothes too.

“Hubert, _gods_… please, hurry,” she whimpered.

“But this is how you like it, isn’t it, professor? You love to be called a whore, pinned and totally at my mercy…” Hubert began. His hand wound up her chest again and over her breasts but he paid them no attention, neglecting the hardened nipples and heave of her heavy breasts. He wrapped his fingers firmly around her throat again and held securely, not yet applying any pressure. “Being choked… this powerlessness… arouses you, doesn’t it, professor?”

“Y-Yes,” she admitted, eyes sliding shut, ready for the addictive squeeze of his hand.

“Reduced to a pathetic, begging mess… you ache for it, don’t you? To be _fucked_ here, against the door, crying around my cock…” Byleth felt the fabric of her smallclothes being tugged aside by Hubert’s other hand and a hot tip push up against her sopping cunt. She tensed reflexively. “You want it to _hurt._”

“_Gods, yes,_ Hubert… hurt me,” Byleth moaned, completely lost in a lusty haze, oblivious to the words coming from her mouth, her instinctual desire taking all control of her brain. She heaved for breath, the head of Hubert’s thick cock brushing against her opening.

He laughed darkly in her hear. “You are just a slut for pain, professor. You want it to hurt,” he mused. With a swift thrust, he buried himself inside of her, holding it half-way for a second before exhaling, to steady himself and then he slammed his hips up against her own. “I will gladly oblige.”

Byleth’s eyes shot open wide and white-hot stars danced in her vision. He was bigger than she anticipated and despite how wet she was, his cock spearing inside of her still hurt more than she was prepared for. She wanted it to hurt, so the burn of the stretch felt scorchingly good. Her back rolled with sweat and it pooled in the dimples of her arched back, Hubert’s hand coming to spread her one ass cheek as far as he could so that her hole stretched further. Byleth hissed through clenched teeth.

“F-Fuck…” she gasped.

“How does it feel, professor?”

“S-So good, _so good,_” she babbled incoherently. Her words sent waves of pleasure washing over Hubert, stronger than he had ever felt before, though he would never admit to it. Truthfully, he was grateful that he had her pinned to the door so that she could not see the debauched expression on his face and his eyebrow twitched, testing his self-control. The willing submissiveness of his professor was thrilling – though he had anticipated much more of a fight from her.

“You must have wanted this badly. You gave in so quickly,” he mumbled, drawing back and then sliding his cock back in. He made to hold her underwear aside with one hand, his thumb hooking into the cotton and he enjoyed the feeling of it brushing against his cock when he thrust back into her. Byleth shuddered and said nothing, focusing instead on standing on her shaking legs and praying that she wouldn’t collapse before she could cum. “I thought a woman as strong as you would have offered up more of a fight.”

Hubert’s fingers tightened around her throat and Byleth tipped her head back, submitting to his touch. This is what she had wanted, what she had been craving since he had let go the last time. Her body revolted against it when he first attacked her but now, she craved the choking feeling of his firm smooth fingers wrapping around her throat, cutting off her air and blood flow. It was stirring a deep boiling heat in her core, that throbbed each time Hubert rocked his hips forward into hers. He was being far too slow for her liking.

Reaching behind herself with one hand, Byleth dared to try and hold onto Hubert’s hip and guide him into her. Though a smirk curled across his mouth and he relished in her desperation, he still slammed her hand back against the door.

“Who are you to dictate my pace, _dearest professor?_ You will take what you are given… and you will be grateful for it.” Rocking his hips up quicker than before, Hubert smothered Byleth with his body, a hand wrapped around her throat and another pinning her to the door by a delicate and thin wrist. She moaned and leaned her sweaty back against his still-clothed chest; it was utterly debauched, the fact that he was still fully dressed and here she was, revealing most of her naked body to him.

“Y-Yes, _gods_… th-thank you, H-Hubert, oh…” she moaned breathlessly. He grinned at her, squeezing around her throat harder, fingers settling into the preceding marks.

“Such a needy _whore_… to think, the commander of our army is nothing more than a slut for my cock,” Hubert murmured to himself. He crushed Byleth’s throat in his hand and started to slam up into her. Her eyes shot open and then fluttered shut quickly again, eyes rolling into the back of her head as lack of oxygen sent her spinning into dizziness, black eclipsing her vision. Hubert watched her face carefully, enjoying the blissed-out and border-line unconscious expression crossing her features.

_Yes, this is what she had wanted._ She had been aching to feel the crush of her windpipe and Hubert’s hips pounding into her mercilessly; she could barely keep up, allowing him to do as he pleased to her, pliant in his hands, moaning and whimpering pathetically. What would Edelgard think if she saw her commander and favourite professor being split open upon Hubert’s cock so openly? What would Dimitri and Claude think? _Yes, they would think her to be the whore she truly was._

“I-It feels so good… H-Hubert, ah, oh, thank you…!” she cried out. Byleth placed her palms flat against the wood of her door and attempted to bounce back against Hubert’s cock, slipping slowly into unconsciousness. She could feel her legs going, going, going-

And then Hubert let go and the air rushed back into her body. She gasped deeply, lungs whooshing and inflating gratefully with the heave of breath that entered her body. Mind spinning and reeling, finally, the heat inside of her overwhelmed her. Unexpectedly, Byleth came, reaching her orgasm and she shuddered around Hubert’s cock. He grit his teeth, caught off-guard by the sudden tight pulsations of her cunt’s walls. Byleth spasmed, pussy clenching around Hubert’s cock, attempting to milk him of his cum so that he would cum inside of her.

Her body burned; sweat rolled between her breasts, pooled in her belly button, and stuck jade-green hair to her forehead. Her eyes were too heavy to open again, and so she opted to keep them closed, trying to steady herself on wobbly feet and unsteady legs.

“Hubert… I-I…”

“Surely you cannot have finished already?” he chuckled. He danced a hand down from her throat and instead cupped her heavy breast; his hand was swallowed by the sweaty, plump softness and he massaged it in his palm. His slowed hips began to pick back up, slamming back in, the sound of sweaty skin clapping and slapping against one another echoing around the burning office once again. “No matter for _I_ am not through with you yet.”

His hips roughly ploughed into her with reckless abandon. If not for her hands planted firmly against the door, Byleth’s body would have been sent rocketing into it. The thrust of Hubert’s hips was unforgiving, deep and fast, chasing after a release and for a moment, Byleth wondered if he would cum inside of her. The thought of his thick seed, potent with magic and potentially impregnating her sent a violent quake through her body. Still sensitive from her last orgasm, her body ignored its own protests and burned, inching closer and closer to a second release.

“A _cock whore_… and nothing more… that is what you are, isn’t it?” Hubert whispered.

“Yes! Yes! Please, Hubert… f-fill me… m-make me feel full with your cum…!” Byleth pleaded. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she swore she could hear Hubert grunt behind her, and his hips stuttered at her words. A few more ragged thrusts later and Hubert abruptly pulled out. Byleth whimpered at the sudden emptiness filling her core and she tumbled to the ground, knees giving way beneath her.

Hubert yanked on her hair painfully and turned her to face him. Her eyes were still heavy, but she managed to open them, vision bleary with tears and dizziness but she could just make out the edges of his face. He still looked like he was totally in control, hardened face brushed only with the faintest of rosy hues, but she could see his hair was sticking to his temples a little too. His golden eye bore down into hers, pupil blown wide and eclipsing his iris. His lips were pulled into a cruel smirk, tilted sideways slightly and his teeth glinted behind deep red lips.

“Hah… you think you _deserve_ to be filled? No… sluts such as yourself look far better on their knees,” he said, pumping himself in his hand. Dizzy, Byleth watched, sitting on her haunches, legs trembling, and she could feel her own sticky pussy juices dribbling down onto the hardwood floor.

“Your cum… please… I need it,” she said, unaware of the words coming from her own mouth. _Yes, this is what he had wanted; to break her beyond her own recognition._ Her face was scarlet, lips swollen and puffy from being bitten incessantly and for a moment, he wondered how good her mouth would taste and how she might look better with blood rolling down her chin if he bit her lips. Byleth shifted on her knees and leaned upwards towards Hubert’s cock but the firm hand in her hair forced her to tilt backwards, her lips straying further from what she ached to taste.

“You _need_ it? Truly, you are nothing but a cock whore… craving cum… Your cunt, your body, your mouth… as long as you have it, you are satisfied,” he said, taking a tangled fistful and then pulling her up onto her knees. Byleth moved obediently, pliant in Hubert’s strong grip and she put her hands on his thighs to steady herself, already knowing what was about to come her way.

“Yes… yes…”

“Say it. _Admit it._”

“I… I am a slut, Hubert… for you… for your c-cock…” she managed. Byleth looked upwards and with teary emerald eyes, managed her best smile. A dark chuckle left Hubert’s lips as he gazed down at her expression; broken, depraved and wholly submissive. He had never seen such a lascivious expression on anyone’s face his entire life and he thought that perhaps he could become accustomed to seeing his former professor on her knees before him with that face.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded. Her mouth fell open and her tongue lolled out like a red carpet, awaiting the grace of his cock. Her eyes were half-lidded, and she tried to stare up at his dick but was far too gone to be fully aware of her actions. Pulling on her hair, he guided her mouth to his cock and her plump lips wrapped around the head. He almost let out a breath but instead held it in, enjoying the sight of her stretched mouth around his girthy cock and pushed in as deeply as he could.

He delighted in the soft choking noises she made when her nose tickled against his pelvis, but she made no effort to draw back and was sure if he let go of her hair, she would remain where she was, with his cock shoved down her bruised throat. He pulled her back and he heard her inhale deeply through her nose, eyes slowly falling shut as he thrust back in. His rhythm quickly built back and soon, he was fucking her throat just as roughly as he had fucked her cunt.

Byleth’s moans were stifled but they still fell around Hubert’s cock. He watched her, fascinated by her fervour for pleasing him, allowing her already swollen throat to continue to be abused, hitting the back of her mouth repeatedly. He came to hold two hands in her hair, and he fucked her mouth with reckless abandon.

“_H-Hah_… Byleth…” he groaned. He felt her fingers squeeze and sink into his thighs and her whole body wracked with a powerful shiver. _Her name._ Her name coming from _his_ lips. Gods, it did things to her she didn’t think possible. His grip on the back of her skull felt like he would tear her hair out at any moment, but she relished in that, knowing she was at his mercy.

With a sharp tug, Hubert pulled out of her throat. Byleth gasped and groaned, head lolling weakly against her shoulders until Hubert pulled her up. Her eyes opened and hot tears spilled down freely from the sheer effort of having her mouth fucked. His hand came to his cock and he pumped it quickly, feeling an increasing tightness in his balls and his toes curled in his boots.

“Open your mouth… I will give you what you desire… be sure to say thank you,” he smirked although breathless. She watched him through her blurry vision but nodded obediently, letting her tongue fall from her mouth as he worked over his cock. He held the tip flat against her tongue, the crown of his cock aimed directly at the back of her throat.

With a guttural groan and a deep growl, Hubert finally released and shot his cum against Byleth’s waiting tongue. He painted it white and it spurted across her upper lip and face, some spattering against her cheek though she didn’t flinch and instead moaned. He rubbed his cock through his body quaking orgasm, never before feeling a rush or thrill more powerful – he could definitely become accustomed to this. A shaky breath passed his lips and he squeezed around the tip of his dick, making sure to draw out every last drop onto his former professor’s eager tongue.

With a gentle hand, he cupped her chin and admired his work; she was broken, a hazy and obscene shell of the woman who he once revered and felt strong affection towards. On her knees, tongue painted with his seed, she rolled it around her lips to collect whatever she could, showing him what he wanted to see. With an audible gulp, she swallowed, and he could see it bob down her throat and he grinned watching her open her mouth again.

"Th-Thank you... hah, f-fuck..." she breathed.

“Such an obedient whore… what would Edelgard say if she saw you now, hmm?” Hubert ran his tongue delicately over Byleth’s bitten lip and she trembled, tilting her head into her touch, aching to feel his hands against her. He gazed down at her. “Open.”

She did as she was told and Hubert inspected her pink tongue, glistening with a mixture of semen and saliva. He opened his own mouth and let saliva roll down his tongue in a long silver strand until it landed against her own. She whimpered pathetically and keened even further upwards, as high as she possibly could to accept what Hubert gave her.

Byleth swallowed and quickly opened her mouth again. Hubert laughed darkly and then crushed her jaw in his hands, squeezing tightly. This time, he spat against her tongue and she flinched but moaned loudly, throat hoarse from abuse. He watched her swallow it and thumbed her bottom lip.

“You truly are depraved… have you no dignity?” he asked, releasing her jaw and standing back upright. Byleth’s hands fell Hubert’s strong thighs into her lap and she simply sat there, trying to recover and draw herself back to reality, lost in her own submission. Hubert tucked himself back into his small-clothes and trousers, re-buttoning himself.

He stood before her, evaluating her. “I see now where your loyalties lie… they do not lie with Edelgard.”

“N-No…” Byleth croaked. She tried to clear her throat and held a hand against her own neck, wincing at the sensitivity and Byleth could see her pale skin was painted with black, blue and purple bruises. He released her hair at long last and moved to the strategy table in the middle of the room, skimming his fingers against the wood, as if nothing had happened between them. She still sat on the ground, pussy leaking, legs trembling, face flushed and chest heaving. If he could capture this moment forever, he would. He would simply have to repeat it so that it scorched into his memory.

“Your loyalties do not lie with Edelgard. They do not lie with me.” Hubert turned the wooden Black Eagle pawn over in his hand and glanced over at his professor, who wiped the dripping cum from her cheek and brought it to her mouth, licking and sucking it down. He snickered. “They lie with cock.”

The tactician replaced it and watched her still. “They do not even lie with my cock, do they? Your loyalty lies with any man willing to give you what you crave…” Hubert stepped towards her and ran a hand through her hair gently and she whimpered.

“I will ensure that you are only ever loyal to my cock.”


End file.
